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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29440167">There... And Back Again?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsHermia/pseuds/MsHermia'>MsHermia</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Like You'd Know How It Works and what comes after [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel Cinematic Universe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, FebuWhump2021, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker &amp; Morgan Stark are Siblings (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Protective Peter Parker, Time Travel, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Needs a Hug</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 17:20:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,410</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29440167</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsHermia/pseuds/MsHermia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Febuwhum2021 Day 12 - Who Are You </p><p>For decades, Tony managed to lock his childhood memories away, never to be talked about again, but with the daughter, he adored getting older and more curious, with the boy who he pulled back into his life as nothing less than a son, there were questions coming up, that Tony couldn't suppress any longer.</p><p>The Stark's drive upstate to the old Mansion where Tony grew up. To Tony's horror, the trip takes him and the kids a lot further down memory lane than anyone could have predicted.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Howard Stark &amp; Tony Stark, Maria Stark &amp; Tony Stark, Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe) &amp; Tony Stark, Peter Parker &amp; Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Peter Parker &amp; Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe) &amp; Tony Stark, Peter Parker &amp; Tony Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Like You'd Know How It Works and what comes after [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1971790</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>140</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>There... And Back Again?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Am I taking advantage of the Febuwhump prompts to post this while I still have two (or three) other stories that are ongoing? Why, yes. Oops? 😉😇</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Wait, you've never been there either?" Peter's voice rang clearly surprised.</p><p>"Nope," Morgan bubbled cheerfully, then paused. "Is that weird?"</p><p>They had left New York City about an hour ago. Super conveniently, Pepper had to attend an emergency meeting and sent Tony ahead with the kids on this trip from hell, which was great. Just <em>great</em>. Tony was only about 45% sure that she had set it up like this, forcing him to engage. He'd had little say in the matter as the fateful trip was arranged. A trip to his ancestral home. With a hyper-active Spider-kid and a chaotic 6-year-old in the back seat, it would be his hardest part playing 'Respectable Adult' to deliver yet.</p><p>Peter - to Tony's horror - had asked to be picked up on Bleeker Street instead of the Parker's apartment in Queens. It wasn't the first time that Tony had heard the odd clue that Peter had grown interested in what they were doing in that Sanctum. He would need to have a bit of a talk with Strange when they got back. The kid dabbling in witchcraft - or whatever it was those dudes were up to in the Sanctum - that just wouldn't do.</p><p>His eyes on the road, even with the excited voices chattering in the backseat, Tony couldn't help but hold onto his gloom. He had missed his window of opportunity. In all honesty, Tony had just been a coward, hoping that if he ignored every little mention of his parents, they'd just stay in the deep hole where he had buried all those memories years ago. Decades ago.</p><p>First, it had been pain and anger that had kept him determined to keep all of it hidden there. Years, he had carried all that baggage like a ball and chain around his ankle, the weight of it dragging him down for too long, never really allowing him to just let go of the past.</p><p>There had been moments along the way, that had lit up these flames before. When Tony had found out about how his parents had really died. The Snap and the loss that followed. Morgan's birth, when he had held his baby girl, while Pepper was sleeping, recovering from labor.</p><p>What wouldn't he have given for his mom to live to see Morgan, to hold her. To just be there and tell him what to do, how to do right by this little girl. Both of his girls, really. </p><p>At the same time, there were no words for the relief he felt that his father would never get the chance to touch Morgan. Would never get the opportunity to make either of his kids feel inadequate and small. To make them hate their lives like he had always made Tony hate his.</p><p>Howard would never get the chance to do that to his kids. And that sure felt like liberation.</p><p>There was a single portrait of his mother on the wall out in the hallway of the cabin right next to the black and white wedding picture of Pepper's parents. When they brought Morgan home from the hospital, Tony added another portrait. One of his father that still sat behind the framed picture of Tony and Peter in the kitchen cupboard. It was there as an ever-present reminder for Tony just in case, so he'd remember every day what he didn't want to be.</p><p>Tony had managed to suppress the topic of his parents, the good and the bad. But he didn't want to be trapped in the labyrinth of right and wrong anymore. Just sick of holding onto the pain. It was all too much.</p><p>So maybe the cracks had started with him, but Morgan had surely been a catalyst.</p><p>It took a few more years though till Tony had to outright confront what he had kept at a safe distance for so long. With the daughter he adored getting older and more curious, with the boy who he pulled back into his life as nothing less than a son, there were questions coming up, that Tony couldn't suppress any longer.</p><p>Howard Stark. The Titan. Maria Stark, the quiet, good soul. The anchor in Tony's youth. There came a time when the kids couldn't be held back with empty words, that had just not been enough to nip the whole topic in the bud. Maybe because Tony had never been the kind of father that would cut his kids' excitement and curiosity off like that. Maybe he could at least pretend that this was the father he had truly become. The patient and giving kind. There was still a chance that he could fake this, sell it just right so that the kids would never know what a disappointment he had been to his own parents. So that his kids would never know the coldness and heartache that had been the baseline of his childhood and adolescence.</p><p>Darkness had fallen shortly after they had left the city. What had hung as a heavy fog in Manhattan had quickly turned into even nastier weather, storm clouds gathering ready to wreak havoc. But the spirits in the car were high. Despite the dread Tony was trying to hide at the very prospect of this trip, the kids sure amused themself looking up the old house on the internet.</p><p>"Whoa! That's huge," Peter gasped. "How many rooms is that?" </p><p>"Let me see, let me see," Morgan begged. Judging by the commotion in the back, she was trying to wrangle the phone out of Peter's hand. "Whoa!"</p><p>Tony couldn't help but smirk at how she imitated Peter more and more often.</p><p>"Daddy, why have we never been to the Mansion?"</p><p>Tony cringed. He hated it when people called it that. The Mansion. It was what his father had called it, though it had probably been for the best since it had surely never been a home, at least not for Tony.</p><p>"We've been waiting for you to be old enough to clean it. It's a lot of rooms." He found the kids' eyes in the review mirror. "A lot!"</p><p>Morgan wrinkled her nose. "Why do I have to do the cleaning?"</p><p>"That job is always for the youngest sibling," Peter jumped in.</p><p>"But... but that's not fair! It's a lot of rooms!" She gasped, excitement nevertheless vibrating off her. "Maybe Doctor Strange knows a cleaning spell."</p><p>Peter spluttered out a laugh, but Morgan was adamant, grilling Peter for everything he had already learned from the wizard, which - at least so he claimed and Tony could only hope it was true - was nothing really. It wasn't until Peter gave in and spun Morgan a tale about ancient rituals, of witches and spirits that he had <em>allegedly</em> read about at the Sanctum that she stopped interrupting and hung on every single word. It was also the point where Tony once again regretted that his girl had ever even heard of Strange and his godforsaken Sanctum.</p><p>"It only happens every few millennia." Peter had turned towards her, his voice drowning out the rain that was pattering against the roof of the car, but not so much the soft thunder in the distance. "It happens when the sun reaches just the right position in the sky, its beams able to penetrate the earth's crusts and open the door to the underworld. It was in one of those nights when witches and ghosts formed their first secret pact, bringing back to life things and creatures that have been dead for a long time and--"</p><p>"Pete, seriously..." Tony looked up into the review mirror trying to catch his eye. "Can you not? I don't want Morgan up all night, terrified of some dumb ghosts."</p><p>"Come on, it's just a story, Tony. Morgan knows I made it all up, right?" Peter winked at her, then wiggled his eyebrows in a way that seemed kind of familiar.</p><p>"Yeah, daddy." But Morgan was full-on ignoring Tony, her eyes on Peter trying to imitate the wink and wiggly eyebrows he had just sent her way. "It's just a story."</p><p>He could do little more than groan as Peter continued to spin a tale of spirits and witches, ancient pacts and promises that had to be kept, ransoms that the spirits had vowed to retrieve.</p><p>"It was a night very much like tonight," Peter continued, his voice low and full of dreadful foreboding, "that the witches broke that pact they had signed with the blood of the innocent..."</p><p>Morgan's gasp morphed into a giddy giggle while Tony could only rub a hand across his brow and mumbled, "Blood of the innocent, give me a fucking break..."</p><p>But if either of the kids had heard, they weren't interested in his opinion.</p><p>"...and the spirits, they vowed to come back and settle the score one day. One day when the sun and moon would once again be perfectly aligned with the door to the underworld..."</p><p>"When did the moon become a part of this?" Tony braced his elbow against the window frame, cradling his head.</p><p>"...then they will come back and collect the price that they were promised so many centuries ago."</p><p>"What's the price?" Morgan whispered.</p><p>"The soul of mankind's bravest hero to punish humanity once and forever. The soul of the hero, that this world can't endure without."</p><p>Morgan gasped while Tony rolled his eyes hard enough to potentially sprain some eye muscles.</p><p>"In fact..." Peter hesitated, then drew in a deep breath, slamming his lips shut.</p><p>"What," Morgan asked, her voice slightly trembling with what Tony could only pray was excitement still.</p><p>"In fact, the way the moon and stars are aligned right now, it... it would suggest that the sun--"</p><p>Morgan gasped again and Tony was losing his last nerve.</p><p>"It's raining harder than it has in like 10 years," Tony groaned. "How could you possibly be able to tell how the moon and stars are aligned, huh? The sun went down 3 hours ago!"</p><p>"It's the vibes of the cosmos, Tony. I can feel them. Their energy calls onto me." Peter caught his eyes in the review mirror, sending him a looked that vibed a different message. Something like 'Why are you ruining this for me, man?' Then his eyes found Morgan again. "I feel like... like tonight might be the night. Tonight might--"</p><p>There was a flash of lightning that clearly wanted to turn the night into day, a strong current of energy that split the sky in two, followed by a massive bang and deep growling thunder. </p><p>Tony bolted upright in his seat, both hands now clutching the steering wheel as the car skidded across the drenched road onto the other lane before Tony countersteered and brought it back under control. Morgan was shrieking like a banshee in the backseat. At least she didn't catch the imaginative chain of curses that slipped over Tony's lips as he brought the car to a sudden stop. He spun around still panting, darting his eyes from one kid to the other.</p><p>"You guys okay?"</p><p>"Jeezes, Tony!" Peter panted, his face a little white. Morgan had immediately leaned over to him, both arms wrapped around his torso. "I didn't realize you were this freaked out by witches and spirits."</p><p>"There is no such thing as witches and spirits," Tony hissed through his teeth. His shoulders slumping with a deep exhale, he reached out for Morgan's leg, petting her in an attempt to make light of this. "You okay, Morguna?"</p><p>She nodded into Peter's chest. Her eyes were wide, shock clearly still clinging to her. In fact, she looked like she was only moments away from crying.</p><p>On a whim, Tony figured his only chance to turn this around was to just lean into the ghost stuff. Despite his still trembling knees, he plastered a wide grin on his lips and wiggled his fingers in the universal warning of a tickle attack. </p><p>"Well, just wait till the ghosts come and get you then."</p><p>Peter - jumping right into the abyss with him - pulled Morgan tight, tickling her sides, and like a miracle she didn't cry but burst out laughing as hard as he had ever seen her, squirming against her seat belt. Neither of them could resist joining into her joy and the shock from just moments before slowly slipped away. </p><p>Blowing out a deep breath of relief, Tony turned his eyes back on the road. It was time to just freaking get there. Get it over with. They were only half an hour away from the Stark Mansion. The closer they got, the darker the night seemed to turn. The trees were growing closer and closer to the road. There were fewer crossings that lead off to other towns, other houses. The Stark Mansion had after all been picked by his father first and foremost for its secluded location. Hard to get there, hard to get away.</p><p>It wasn't just the world outside the car that took a darker turn. The mood inside of it was slowly deteriorating too. Another glance in the review mirror confirmed that Morgan was still snuggled tightly against Peter, her eyes open wide, staring into the void. Peter had a hand in her hair, softly combing through it, his own gaze turned to the woods that stretched along either side of the road. The rain was still strong, drumming on the roof of the car.</p><p>15 more minutes. The kids would feel a whole lot better once they were there, some hot chocolate to calm the nerves - maybe with a pinch of rum for Tony's own - and by the time the sun would rise the next day, by the time Pepper would get there to help him with this mess, everything would be alright.</p><p>It turned out, that that next morning would not come as fast as Tony had wished for. The rain had still been lashing as he carried his exhausted, strung up little girl through the doors of the large mansion. Even as he sat her down in her pajamas in the ensuite of his old room to blowdry her rain-soaked hair, the mood was still foul. Not even the hot chocolate she was clutching seemed to make a difference.</p><p>"But I don't want to go to bed," she whined.</p><p>"It's already past 11 pm, Morguna. Look at you, you're all cranky. You need your sleep."</p><p>"But I don't want to." Big tears rolled down her cheeks, bambi-eyes turned up at Tony. "Daddy, please don't go." She hiccoughed stumbling through the words. "Please. The spirits will come and get you."</p><p>"On honey, baby..." He pulled her close against him, not failing to send a fiery glance at the Spiderling who was lingering in the door frame sporting a rosy flush on his cheeks. "That was just a story. Peter made that all up because you wanted to hear a scary story."</p><p>"It's true, Morg." To his credit, Peter was fast to slip into the bathroom and crouch down in front of Morgan. "I just made it up. It's not true at all."</p><p>"But the lightning," she sobbed into Tony's chest. "It was the door to the underworld that opened back up!"</p><p>"That was just pure coincidence! There are no wizards, no ghosts—"</p><p>"But Doctor Strange is a wizard. You said he's a wizard." Her little hands still clung to Tony's shirt, but slowly she peeked out from under Tony's arm at Peter.</p><p>"But... but that's different, erm..." Peter scratched his head looking to Tony for help.</p><p>"He's a good wizard, bambina," Tony tried. "You know the... universe-saving kind." He cringed at his own uselessness. "Come on now, you're just tired. Everything will be just fine in the morning, you'll see."</p><p>Between the two of them, they managed to get Morgan into bed at least, but it wasn't until Peter volunteered to sleep in her room for the night that Morgan was finally settling down. Tony pressed a long kiss against her forehead as he knelt next to the bed, letting her pull him close once again until his knees protested and he pushed himself back to his feet. By the time Tony had reached the door of the room, turned off the light, and shot a last glance at his kids, Morgan had already guilted Peter into slipping under the covers on the narrow bed, snuggling against him.</p><p>It was moments like this that made it all worth it. All of it. Moments, he had never been supposed to see, would have never been able to cherish if it hadn't been for his brave boy who had pulled him back to this life. Who had given him another chance.</p><p>"Love you, kids. Sleep tight."</p><p>Morgan's eyes were already closed, as she hummed an affirmative mumbled response that Tony could only decipher as "me too, daddy" because he had heard it so often. Peter squinted at him, his lips pulled into a smirk.</p><p>"Night, <em>dad</em>," he purred overly dramatic.</p><p>They weren't quite there yet. Peter never called him that unless it could be loosely interpreted as him playing along with either the jokes and teases the team made or for Morgan's sake who had by now unequivocally embraced him as her older brother. Still, Tony made sure that there never was any doubt about what his own feelings on the matter were. He loved the kid like he was his own. And Peter was his in every way that mattered.</p><p>The house was already getting to him. Tony didn't seem to be able to stop his thoughts drifting to his parents. He couldn't help but think of his mom. He wished that she could have seen those two rascals. Just as much, Tony would have loved to rub a moment like this in Howard's face. His father would have been mortified, scandalized even and Tony would have lapped up every second of it, bathing in the satisfaction that he didn't let that man break him. That he didn't care what Howard's bullshit parenting had tried to beat out of him. </p><p>It took all the strength and adult responsibility for Tony to close the door and not lean into his mushy feelings. He would just rile the kids back up, the way he was craving another big hug and mumbled declarations of eternal love. It had been a long day, a difficult drive. He just needed to get some shut-eye himself. His feet carried him down the dark corridor but he paused in front of the large authentic walnut door to the master bedroom. </p><p>It had been his parents' room for many years. In fact, Tony had never spent a night in there, not even as a kid. It would have been unthinkable for him to crawl into this room in the dead of the night during a storm like the one that was raging above them, or after he had been woken by a nightmare. No, a Stark was supposed to toughen it out. He was supposed to become a leader. Leaders didn't cry. They didn't whine either. Composure and class didn't include clinging to his mother's apron strings, let alone looking for comfort from his father.</p><p>A heavy lump in his throat, Tony reached for the doorknob but before his hand even touched it, he turned away. There had been enough talk of ghosts for one day. He could face those particular once another night. Preferably with Pepper by his side. Instead, his feet carried him back to the end of the hallway where he hit the stairs that brought him all the way down to his father's old workshop.</p><p>It was the one part of the house he hadn't had Pepper completely remodel. As he settled at his father's old workbench and wiped away decades of dust from the surface, Tony couldn't help but think of his old man. Of how different things would have been if the old bastard had been a little different. If he had at least tried and—</p><p>He pushed the thought away. What did it matter? All that was over with. Done and done. It was down there in the old armchair that stood by the open fireplace that Tony hadn't bothered to light that he fell asleep for the night.</p><p>Quiet knocking sounds woke him the next morning. For a second, cold dread had him freeze in the chair until he remembered. The Mansion. The trip. The kids were still upstairs probably up already, looking for him. Tony didn't hesitate. His limbs hurt from the odd angle but he would have to make sure not to mention any of it or there would be one of Pepper's lectures on sleeping on things that weren't designated sleeping surfaces.</p><p>The stairs leading up from the basement seemed to drag on and on but with every step, his muscles woke up a little more, felt a little more alive. Still, he took a short break to stretch in the landing, to shake the needles pricking his muscles from his legs, before he climbed up into the first floor to make sure the kids weren't already up to their usual shenanigans. As he arched his back and blew out a groan, he spotted a large picture frame on the sideboard right next to the stairs. Like a sack of rice, he imploded mid-stretch, reaching for the picture.  </p><p>"What the..."</p><p>It was a family portrait. His mother, Howard, and little Tony. Smiles on all their faces. Decked out in their best suits. It made him want to gag from all the fakeness just looking at it.</p><p>"But..." Tony frowned. He had gotten rid of those. Had Pepper... no she wouldn't, would she? He had been clear that he didn't want any of these around.</p><p>There was a high pitched scream echoing through the hall. The frame slipped from Tony's hands and shattered on the floor as he sprinted up the stairs, forgotten all the aches from last night's uneasy sleep.</p><p>He pushed open the door to his old room, expecting blood or broken bones, but instead, he found his little girl on the bed, squirming in laughter. Next to her on the floor, Peter was holding his stomach, tears in his eyes while he could barely breathe from how hard he was laughing.</p><p>It took Tony a second to reboot his brain and realize what Peter was pointing at. "Sweet Jesus..."</p><p>There was a portrait on the far wall of the room. A portrait, well, that implied some form of artful expression, no. There was an <em>abomination</em> that covered half the wall. A painting his parents had commissioned when he had been roughly Morgan's age. A painting that he was <em>sure</em>, he had burned more than 30 years ago.</p><p>Tony's mouth was flapping open and close but he had no word.</p><p>"Daddy, is that really you?" Morgan sat up straight, eyes shining with utter joy. "You were so cute! Look at your hair! It's all so... curly!"</p><p>"No wonder you didn't want us to turn up the lights last night." Peter was still holding his stomach. "Are you wearing tights? Oh my—"</p><p>"Those are stockings," Tony growled like it was helpful. "It's Edwardian."</p><p>Peter snorted, rubbing the tears from his eyes. "But why?"</p><p>"Anthony Edward..." He shook his head, hands tangled in his messy hair like it could undo the ghost pains of those hair roller pulling at his scalp. "How in the world is this possible." He glared at Peter. "Stop it with the hysterics, okay?"</p><p>"I'm sorry, Tony, I just don't think I'll ever be able to unsee this." The smirk on Peter's face only deepened as he pulled up his phone. "And neither will Twitter."</p><p>The phone almost dropped to the ground only saved by Peter's fast reflexes as the door to the room swung open once again and hit the wall with a forceful slam.</p><p>"What in the world is going on in here!"</p><p>Tony's vision whiting out around the edges. His hands fumbled for something that would keep him upright but there was nothing, only sheer panic that was flooding all of his senses at once.</p><p>There was a man in the door frame. Taller than him, grey-ish hair. A man that looked an aweful lot like his father. Howard Stark, there was no doubt in Tony's mind no matter how impossible it was, that was his father who stood in there glaring at him.</p><p>"Anthony, what the hell is--" He stopped the frown on his face turning even darker. "Who the hell are you and what... what is this?! What is—"</p><p>There was no time to think, no room for a single coherent thought as Tony lunged for him. With strength his trembling hands pulled out of thin air, he pushed Howard back far enough to slam the door shut right in his face. He turned the key twice, bolting the door shut, then spun around and leaned his back against it like it would keep the ghosts of the past out.</p><p>There was a beat of silence, only Tony's heavy pants echoing off the walls. His eyes flickered to Morgan who still sat up high on the bed that wasn't the bed he had put her to sleep in the night before any longer. I stead, he stared at the old, dark wood frame of the bed Tony had slept in for most of his childhood.</p><p>Panic. That was all he could think of. That he was drifting into a full-on anxiety attack. This couldn't be happening. It was impossible. It had to be a dream or—</p><p>He squinted at Peter. "What did you do?"</p><p>Peter's eyes went wide. "What did I do?" He shook his head in bewilderment, frozen just like Morgan was. "What did <em>you</em> do?"</p><p>"I didn't do anything!" Tony's voice was hoarse. This could still be a dream. He could still wake up but given his track record... "Did you bring back some mumbo jumbo from the wizards?"</p><p>"No!" He shook his head, scrambling to his feet.</p><p>"Peter, you need to tell me the truth! Did you bring them here? This is serious! What if—"</p><p>The door vibrated as Howard banged his fist against the other side of it. "Open the goddamn door! This instance! I will not repeat myself!"</p><p>Tony braced himself against the door like the devil was knocking from the other side, which in all honesty, it felt like he was.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you guys for reading! Thank you even more for leaving a comment *winkwink*</p><p> </p><p>Currently you can nominate your favorite Iron Dad stories and art for the <a href="https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSdxtCvxVxe8SrDR7-6OM6bA-NGnfQak6eFZhYFf_1U3-ivUQw/viewform">Irondad Creator Awards</a>. Nominations are open for a few more days I believe before voting begins.</p><p> </p><p>As a little BTS goodie, here the picture that inspired me for the painting of a 5/6-year-old Tony:</p><p> </p><p>  </p></blockquote></div></div>
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